


You In The Red Dress

by bellarke



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, even more minor octavia, president's daughter AU, security guard au, very minor bellamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 03:24:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4123960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellarke/pseuds/bellarke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her new security guy has no game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You In The Red Dress

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hey guys! So this is a prompt for Annie (castielscrusade over on Tumblr) and it's part of the 100 Fanfic Writers Network June Round Robin. That's a bit of a mouthful! 
> 
> I've never written Murphy/Raven before, but when I saw this prompt I couldn't resist it. I only hope it's what you wanted, Annie!

Her new security guy has no game.

She watches as he stands awkwardly near the drinks table – not too far away, just in case he needs to come and save her from the pretty man she’s chatting with – and is completely oblivious to the blonde girl standing next to him, who’s really laying it on thick. She doing all the right things; brushing her hair back, exposing her bare shoulders, even laughing at the jokes he isn’t even telling. But he’s just standing there, hands clasped at his front, and with a keen eye on Raven’s whereabouts.

She should be grateful, really. The last guy, Dax, turned out to be an asshole, and after barreling off a list of acceptable behavior and attempting to give Raven tips on what to wear in order to be safe, she promptly informed the head of her father’s security, an ex navy seal named Blake. Dax hadn’t lasted long after that, and Murphy was drafted in as a replacement, handpicked by Blake himself.

Raven reminds herself that she can call him Bellamy now, since she’s friends with his sister.

Murphy finally notices that Raven has been observing him, and he raises his eyebrows at her. She shakes her head at him, so that he knows to keep his distance, and goes back to her conversation with the pretty man from the charity of the night’s marketing division.

‘…and so I obviously had to disagree with him. Honestly, the way he speaks and the things he comes out with. So pompous it’s painful.’

Raven has to try very, very hard not to roll her eyes. She’ll be able to gab about it with Octavia later when she gets back to the house. She only wishes their rooms weren’t so far apart, but given that Octavia is technically staff at night as well as day time, and she doesn’t have very high security clearance in the building, she keeps to her end and Raven keeps to hers. Raven’s pretty sure she’ll be able to twist Murphy into letting his boss’ sister into Raven’s room soon, though.

On cue, he arrives at her side with a polite hand on her side. He leans in.

‘Miss Reyes, the car’s coming in five.’

She nods an understanding and excuses herself from her conversation with Martin. Or was it Marvin?

Murphy guides her through the stream of guests, gently edging people out of the way where they won’t budge because they want to get a good look at the president’s daughter. Raven usually ignores them all, but tonight she’s interested in the crowd. Her father had been unable to attend for health reasons, and he’s been frantic at the house because of the upcoming election. It’s still half a year away, but Richmond Reyes doesn’t want to put a foot out of place. There’s still plenty he wants to do, so many people he still wants to help, and he truly, deeply cares about the charities he endorses. So Raven had stepped up, gracefully accepting the task of having to go and schmooze and wine and dine.

Murphy wasn’t quite so excited at the prospect. According to Octavia, who’d heard it from Bellamy, he’d already been settling in for the night and wasn’t due to start his duties until the following morning.

‘That girl was flirting with you, you know,’ Raven says as he leads her outside. Murphy stops her by the entrance.

‘What girl?’ he asks, stepping a little ways up the street to where her car is approaching.

‘Miss Reyes!’

Lights flash in Raven’s eyes suddenly, and she tries to cover them to no avail. Camera shutters go off all around her, and she’s crowded, with grown men stepping closer and closer. She tries to look for Murphy but all she sees are lights.

‘Where’s your father tonight?’

‘Is it true he’s suffering from respiratory problems?’

‘Are there any truth to the rumours that you and Finn are back together?’

‘How did it feel when you found out he cheated?’

Raven freezes at that, blood running cold, feet stuck where they are. Her hand is still covering her eyes like a visor, but they just keep coming. This is the worst part of being who she is; her anonymity is gone, her private life is all over the tabloids, and even though she never puts anything on display, people still manage to find a way to do it for her. She feels the lump in her throat, then her chest constricts and God, she just wants to go home –

Murphy grabs her hand in his, then pulls her into his side. He pushes through the photographers, his hand tightening on Raven’s hip as she grips his fingers, and finally they’re through the brunt and locked safely away in her town car. She moves to the other side and Murphy angles himself to block the window until they’ve pulled away.

Raven throws her head back and looks at him.

‘Welcome to the white house,’ she says.

She turns her face to the window and bites her lip, hoping he doesn’t see the tear as it threatens to slide down her cheek

  
*****

He did see it.

Murphy stands guard a few days later, when Raven is on her way out of a guest appearance at the public library. A new wing is being opened, and with her father heading out of the country for the UK, Raven was next on the list to attend and christen the wing for local history. She hasn’t said a word about the incident outside the charity event a few nights back, and Murphy’s gathered that it’s probably because she doesn’t listen to the nonsense the tabloids come out with. But hearing stories from Bellamy changes his mind on the matter; turns out she hurts, and she hurts deeply.

‘So what’s with all the public appearances?’ Murphy asks on their way out, just as Raven is turning away from a smiling little girl who’s handed her a bouquet of flowers.

‘Thought you were a rocket scientist, not a celebrity.’

Bellamy didn’t have to tell him that. Raven’s intelligence has been a hot topic for years, even before her father’s presidential run. She’s a lock for NASA, one day, whenever she decides it’s time and, if not that, then she’ll probably go on to win a Nobel prize in a subject that Murphy doesn’t know the first thing about.

‘I’m the president’s daughter,’ Raven says simply, but Murphy catches the tone in her voice. It suggests she’s not as happy about it as people might think. ‘I have responsibilities.’

Murphy shrugs. He’s grateful at least that he’s not the first son of the United States. He can’t imagine the pressure. 

*****

They have a game. Well, Raven has a game. Murphy has a more of a pet peeve.

‘Come on,’ she says. ‘You need the practice.’

Reluctantly, he agrees.

‘So. What’s your name?’

‘Why do you care?’ she asks, taking him by surprise.

‘What the hell?’ he says, throwing his hands up.

Raven laughs. He hates that he loves the sound. ‘I’m just preparing you,’ she says.

He rolls his eyes.

They play again.

*****

Frantic, he finds her in the garage.

‘What the hell, Raven?’ he demands, hands running through his hair. He’s out of breath.

Raven smirks from under the car hood.

‘I’ve been looking for twenty minutes.’

Raven doesn’t look up from the spanner she has embedded in the engine.

‘You could have asked Bellamy or Octavia.’

‘They’d know I lost you.’

She peers round the hood.

‘Don’t you want to lose me?’

Murphy puts his hands on his hips. His jacket is a little big around the shoulders, but not so much that he’s drowning in it. His tie is hanging a little loose around his neck, too. His shirt is tucked in, at the very least, and Raven admires the way it fits nicely around his chest. She guesses, given his history in the military, that he’s still keeping fit. She likes a guy who takes care of himself; gives her something nice to look at when she’s on top.

Ever since Finn, she doesn’t look the guy in the eyes.

‘What do you mean?’ Murphy asks, stunning her out of her reverie of her and him and a bed and –

‘Raven?’

She clears her throat and moves around to lean against the driver’s side door. He still has his hands on his hips, but he’s not quite so tense around the collar now. He hooks an eyebrow, and she folds her arms.

‘Oh come on, I know you hate this job.’

He furrows his brows.

‘You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last.’

‘What are you talking about?’ he asks, straightening out his sleeves and attempting to fix his tie. ‘I like my job just fine.’ 

‘Yeah they all tell me that…’ she turns back to her Cadillac.

It was a gift from her father last year, in celebration of her twenty-first birthday. Not her only gift, but by far her favourite. She uses it to think. She comes to the garage when she has a problem, such as now, although she plans to keep that little nugget to herself because telling Murphy of all people is the worst idea. She starts figuring the problem out by figuring the engine out. Once she’s pulled it all apart and put it back together again, the solution is usually in sight.

With this particular problem, it’s so far no good. Navigating developing feelings for your security guard isn’t as simple as finding your way around an engine or two.

‘You’re weird,’ Murphy says, leaning back against the wall.

He watches her with half a hidden smile on his lips, and Raven thanks her stars that he can’t see her smiling back from under the Cadillac hood.

*****

He’s been hers for over three months now.

He catches himself thinking that now and then, when he sees her first thing in the morning and the day is instantly brighter, and when the night seems darker than usual when he says goodnight.

‘Are you hers?’

One of the visiting European diplomats’ sons asks him when they filter into the dining room. It’s huge, with a table to seat thirty. Raven is to sit to her father’s left when she arrives, although according to Bellamy she isn’t ready yet. Octavia’s helping her braid her hair, or something. Murphy nods at the guy, who looks roughly the same age as him at twenty-five, and then gives him the once over.

Close shaven hair, but not too short. Sharply dressed in a dark grey suit, with some shiny black shoes. He’s not a bad looking guy, by any means.

Murphy decides then that he doesn’t like him.

‘How’d you know?’ Murphy asks.

‘You’re staring at her seat like you’re ready to fight it,’ the guy laughs. Murphy nods, but doesn’t smile, and it seems to irk the kid. ‘Come on, man, it’s all in jest. She’s a beautiful girl. You’re lucky.’

‘I am?’ Murphy knows he is, but he really isn’t interested. He can’t just walk away without raising a few people’s eyebrows, though.

‘Hell yeah. You get to take her to bed at night, right?’ the kid says, and he winks. ‘From what I hear she’s –’

Murphy rounds on him, face drawn in close, but skillfully not so threatening as to raise alarm.

‘I dare you to finish that sentence.’

The kid smirks, but loosens his collar and Murphy revels in the effect he’s having.

A murmur filters through the guests then, and Murphy turns to the archway to that leads down from the staircase; Raven’s descending into the room, wrapped up in a flowing red dress that hugs in the all the right places. Her hair is swept to one side, and her eyes are gleaming. Suddenly Murphy’s mouth is dry, and he has to swallow hard to keep from letting his tongue hang out. 

*****

Mercifully, dinner passes quickly. By the time dessert is finished, Raven has barely had a bite and it’s all to do with who’s sitting next to her and who’s standing behind her. The whole time this kid from Europe – Daniel or David or something – is talking to her about how pretty she looks and how much she’d love France and Italy, Raven can feel Murphy’s eyes burning into the bare side of her neck. Every once in a while, when the kid next to her dips his gaze to take a bite of his food, Raven turns her gaze back on Murphy.

She feels herself ignite when their eyes lock.

*****

Murphy’s beginning to think he should quit.

He definitely shouldn’t be feeling these things for someone in his charge, especially not the damn president’s daughter. Every time she looks round at him, he has to keep from clenching his fists together.

Bellamy whispers in his ear to keep cool, to keep it together, and that they’ll discuss it in the morning.

*****

Raven excuses herself when most of her father’s guests have left. There are a few stragglers, including Daniel or David. He catches her arm just as she’s heading out of the lobby. She sees Murphy take a step forward but glares at him to stay in his place. He doesn’t cooperate, merely hovers closer.

‘Would you like to get a drink?’ Daniel or David asks.

Raven feigns a yawn, and Murphy smirks from behind Daniel or David.

‘No thanks,’ she says, before moving around him. He’s about to say something else when Murphy cuts into his path and begins trailing Raven up the stairs.

Neither of them spares a glance back at the kid.

*****

It’s almost one in the morning when Raven looks at the clock for the first time. She’s lying on her bed, still fully decked out in her red dress. She’s kicked her heels off, though. Accidentally clocking Murphy in the shin might have been funny, but he hadn’t appreciated it and she certainly didn’t want it to happen again. He was sitting in the chair across from her bed, peering through the drawn curtains near the wall. Everything was quiet outside, so really he had no reason to be in Raven’s bedroom. She couldn’t bring herself to ask him to leave, though.

‘Ask me,’ she says, feeling like a little fun.

He chuckles, but obliges nonetheless and sits a little straighter.

‘So, what’s your name?’

‘I’m Raven Reyes, and you?’

‘I’m John,’ he replies easily.

She smiles at him, eyes going a little dark.

‘Very good,’ she whispers in a single breath. 

*****

‘How long have you been working for me now?’ she asks him later.

‘I work for your father,’ he says smugly. ‘Not for you.’

Raven rolls onto her stomach. She catches the way Murphy’s gaze flickers to her chest.

‘You work for me, John.’

She speaks quietly, folding her arms in front of her on the bed and resting her chin on them.

*****

His heart definitely races when she says John.

Nobody calls him John.

He looks away, tries hard to resist the temptation that her lips are drawing him in with. Red and full and just perfect and –

‘Damn it,’ he mutters, before hauling himself to his feet.

‘Goodnight, Raven.’

He leaves the room as quickly as he can, before she can notice the blush on his face, how hot he is at the back of his neck, or the way his hands are shaking. He loosens his tie as he descends the stairs, then heads over to clock out for the night.

First thing in the morning, he’s going to quit.  

*****

He doesn’t quit, predictably. 

*****

‘So what’s your name?’ He asks her one morning, when she’s just finished getting ready for a brunch date with a friend.

‘Raven. And yours?’

‘Mur-’ he begins, but she raises his eyebrows and he stops. ‘John.’

‘A classic,’ she says, carrying on as they head downstairs.

‘Yeah. So, what do you like to do?’

‘Seriously?’ Raven says, officially out of character. ‘I’m trying to help your game here, because to be honest I think you could do with getting laid –’

It’s torture being around her when he’s so ass-backwards in love and she’s just out of reach.

*****

‘Hey, you in the red dress.’

Raven chuckles at him.

‘Yeah,’ Murphy says. ‘The thing is I like you.’

Raven’s breath catches, because she knows he’s kidding. He has to be kidding. It’s what they do; they joke, they laugh, they pretend to be meeting for the first time because it’s easy and it’s fun and it’s best not to imagine anything else because of who she is and who he is and all of the restrictions and the can’ts and won’ts and all of the -

‘I’m sorry,’ he says, laughing. ‘I’m drunk. Get off the phone.’

Raven hangs up on command, but her heart races for the rest of the night. 

*****

‘Raven-’

‘I don’t want to talk about, alright?’ she says, pushing past him and heading for the bathroom door. Murphy waits for the slam, but it doesn’t come and so he takes it as a sign to follow her. She’s running the bath when he enters.

‘Leave me alone, Murphy.’

‘Oh, okay, so we’re back to Murphy now?’

‘Shut up.’

He clenches his jaw, and silently he curses the name Finn Collins. The peacemaker turned asshole, who was probably always an asshole but had the good sense to hide it under his fluffy hair and his big brown eyes. Finn Collins who makes girls fall at his feet with just one smile, and who Murphy never really understood or wanted to get to know. Finn Collins who ruined Raven Reyes’ ability to let love in, because she thinks all it brings is pain.

‘I know why you’re scared,’ he says quietly, and she stops the running tap. ‘But you need to know that the only person who’s going to hurt you here… is you. Keep pushing me away, see what happens.’

‘I’m not scared,’ she replies, feebly, unable to meet his gaze.

Murphy knows this is treacherous territory for her, a plain she doesn’t know how to navigate. Being vulnerable is hard, and he understands that, and yeah sure when he started working for her he was glad because he didn’t want to have to deal with it. He didn’t want to read those pages. Now he wants to read her whole damn book from cover to cover, run his fingers down its spine and get to know every word.

‘Raven…’ he begins, hoping the words will come with ease.

They don’t, and they’re just left staring at each other with all the things left unsaid in the silence between them. Raven pushes up from the rim of the bathtub. Her heels clack on the floor, one and then the other, and Murphy has to scratch that spot behind his ear, duck his head, to avoid her gaze. She makes him feel so small and so big all at once and not knowing where he stands right now is getting to be a little much.

‘Look…’ Raven says.

Murphy runs the back of his hand over his lips before he looks up, pondering if he’s going to like what she’s going to say next. Raven shrugs.

‘I think you should go.’

He doesn’t like it. 

*****

‘What’s going on with you?’ Raven asks two weeks later, looking up from under the hood of the Cadillac.

Murphy is leaning against the wall, drumming his fingers on a nearby countertop. He’s been doing it for the past ten minutes, and being the strong, mostly silent type, Raven’s not used to him making a sound. Now that he is, it’s distracting; even more so than he usually is. Normally it only takes him walking into the room to set her off balance, but now with him here, constantly there to take care of her, always around and in such close proximity, it’s more than too much. It’s just –

‘Nothing,’ he says, practically a mute.

‘You’re pissing me off.’

‘I’m not doing anything.’

‘Exactly,’ she says, rolling her eyes. ‘Look alive, John.’

‘Don’t call me that,’ he snaps.

Raven stops what she’s doing, sets her spanners aside, and closes the hood of her car. When she looks at him, eyebrows creased and gaze a little hard, he falters.

‘Fine,’ she says. ‘Let’s play a game.’

Because she knows why he said no. She knows why he said don’t.

‘No.’

‘Come on, Murphy,’ Raven says, eyes gleaming.

He shakes his head, and for a second Raven wonders if perhaps, this time, he’s going to deny her the satisfaction. The thing is, it’s all she wants to hear. She wants to hear him say no; the thought, even the inclination, of him attempting to talk to other girls, to touch other girls, to sleep with other girls, is enough to make Raven’s heart miss its beats.

‘Come on,’ she says again, quieter this time. Watching.

He clears his throat.

‘So what’s your name?’

Raven speaks before she thinks; it’s almost as if her heart has jumped up her throat and painted its message out for the world to see. Very simply, she says,

‘I love you.’

Murphy takes a beat.

He looks up.

 

**fin.**


End file.
